Blind Sided
Chapter 9
The dream I had picked up where the last one left off. I was standing in the graveyard, the snow softly landing on my bun, and bangs. I had to blink more times then I wanted to, to get the snowflakes off my eye lashes. Crane was turned towards me, like he was waiting for me to respond.
"Why?" I asked softly, but in reality I was extremely skeptical of the situation. I hadn't forgotten what Crane had done, and I especially hadn't forgotten what he could do.
His face turned away, for a spit second, before he walked closer to me. He stood next to me, our shoulders almost touching. I kept my attention on him, suspicious of anything he might try.
I felt warmth coming off him. My hands tightened into fists, feeling on edge. I felt the snow cool my feet, distracting me for a moment, and Crane put his arm around my shoulders, causing me to scowl deeply.
"Crow's are the enemies of scarecrows." He said simply, turning his face towards mine again. He smiled insanely, and I backed off, wrenching myself away from him. I scowled deeply, but it faded away as his smile widened.
I woke up, as soon as the hand on the clock hit seven.
I gingerly got up and stretched. My feet hurt like hell, and I didn't want to change the bandages.
I didn't bother to change my clothes, even though I knew it was going to be freezing outside. I'd never really been one to care about how cold it was, just so long as it wasn't hot. I could put up with freezing weather, but heat? Hell no. I'll drag around a portable air conditioner, and don't think I'm sharing.
I mean, the clothes I was wearing were clean enough. I pulled on my boots, and walked out of the apartment. As I walked down the streets, I wondered if they served food at Arkam. This one meal a day shit was starting to suck, maybe it was the reason I was having fucked up dreams about Pretty Boy? It figures the bastard would worm his way into my head. Hopefully he'll be in a straight-jacket and quite today.
When I got in there, there was an older man with large glasses and a moustache waiting at the front desk. He didn't seem old, but he looked it. His face had numerous worry lines, and he seemed like he was permanently worried about something. I noted that there was a badge tucked into his shirt pocket. Great, a fucking policeman.
I tried to inconspicuously pass him by, which should have been easy because I was blind and I can't really 'look' at him, but his head snapped up in my direction. So much for inconspicuous.
"Maximille Taylor?" He called out, facing me and walking closer. I tried to hide my frown. "My name is Jim Gordon, I heard that you helped save a doctor here from Scarecrow yesterday?"
I shrugged.
"I didn't really save him, I just kept Crane away from him." I explained uninterested, he smiled some. He inclined his head towards me, his expression growing serious and worried again.
"Well, Harvey Dent and Rachel Dawes would like to talk with you about that later today. If you could stop by the police station after you're done working, we'll talk to you then." Gordon said cryptically. His voice was worried and stressed, and I couldn't say I blamed him. With people like Twinkle Toes and Pretty Boy walking around in this city, who the hell (as a police officer) wouldn't be stressed and worried?!
"Can I ask why you want to talk to me?" I asked suspiciously. He smiled, the worry receding somewhat.
"No, Ms. Taylor. Ask for me when you get to the station later, and don't go anywhere with anyone other than me." He said, walking away. His smile dropped off once he was outside, and he looked up at the sky, seeming to be deep in thought. He said something, but he was too far away for me to hear.
I stopped by the lady at the desk, and told me Ivy had escaped (Wow, I'll try to hold back my surprise at that; not.) and I had to deal with Crane an extended period of time, not to mention walk him. Great. She gave me the key's to the outdoor place, and they felt heavy in my hands. When the hell did I become his babysitter? The woman smiled at me, and something about her felt untrustworthy. It was a really off feeling, and it stayed when she told me I had to keep Crane outside for a few hours.
Why would they make a blind girl walk around, alone, for hours, unsupervised with a convicted murderer? Man, maybe Crane was right about Arkam, I mean, I'm tough, but not everyone likes to think that. Whatever, I could handle it, I had to sit outside his cell for a hour, walk him for
As I walked up the stairs, remembering that stupid bouquet and syringe. I clenched my fists and I grew angry again. Who the fuck did Pretty Boy think he was? How dare he put weird shit in my apartment?! Maybe I should beat the shit out of him while I was 'walking' him.
Then a thought crossed my mind.
How did he get the fear toxin? How did he get the stupid girly flowers in my apartment? How the hell did he even know where I lived?
I ground my teeth together, and my eyebrows drew together in anger. One of the guards was a rat. A turncoat. It had to be the one who relieved me a couple of days ago. No one told me the name of who was supposed to relieve me, and he hadn't offered his name. He'd only said he was there to relieve me.
Ohhhh. Pretty Boy and I are going to have a lot to talk about.
I got up to the very last floor, and my face became expressionless. I'd play stupid for the time being, just because it'd probably piss him off. I walked up to his cell, and stood in front of it, leaning my back against. As soon as I entered his line of sight, he watched me carefully, like he was expecting me to yell. Oh, I was going to, just not now.
"No doctor's appointments today? That's too bad, I enjoyed walking with you." He said, smirking. My eyes narrowed some.
"That makes one of us." I retorted, not bothering to be nice. At this point, I didn't think I had to be polite to a murderer who was obsessed with scaring people.
"So, anything interesting happen last night?" He asked, the smirk becoming more arrogant and smug.
"Not particularly. Why?" I asked, the held back anger pouring through the last word. My expression hardens in anger as he chuckled. Game over.
"If I find another syringe or flowers, you're going to find some too. Up your ass." I glared, the other inmates moving around restlessly.
"I must say, I'm a little offended you didn't like my gift." He said, his voice weighed down heavily with amusement. Weird thing was, he wasn't lying.
Um, okay, that's a little weird. Then I tensed.
If Pretty Boy stuff's his tongue down my throat like Twinkle Toes, I'll bury him alive and then crush him with heavy rocks. Because, I mean…ick. It doesn't mean I'm a prude, after all there is a reason I call him Pretty Boy, it just means I don't want him stuffing his psychopath tongue down my throat.
"I'll try and feel sorry that I just insulted you Pretty Boy, but I don't think it's going to happen." I snarked, sarcastic. The smug smile grew some. My scowl darkened in response.
"I have to wonder, if I could get into your apartment that easily…" Pretty Boy said, hinting at something.
"You can't get into my apartment. You're locked up. Or have you added delusional to your list of mental problems?" I turned my face towards him, and the clock hit nine. Great, time to go.
"Am I really though? It's only a matter of time before I escape." He said, walking towards the glass as I unlocked the door. I snorted, opening the door and letting him out.
"I won't hold my breath on that one. Besides, I bet Batman'd just drag you're sociopathic ass back here." I said, taking hold of his arm and walking towards the stairs. He scowled, and I ignored it. I didn't really care what he thought.
"I don't make the same mistakes twice, Max. I doubt even the Batman could find me." He said coldly, and I smirked. It was fun getting under his skin and pissing him off as much as he pissed me off.
The smirk dropped off my face when he turned to look at me, and I got a little pissed.
"What are you looking at, Pretty Boy?" I sneered. He smirked darkly, his muscles tensed. My shoulders tensed; and I was ready to punch his lights out if the bastard wanted to try anything.
"I'm looking at you." He said, condescending as ever. I almost hit him in frustration, but I held back.
"Why?" I asked through clenched teeth. Crane's smirk widened some, annoying me even further.
"Why not?" He retorted slyly, mocking me. My eye twitched. The asshole was stealing my smart-ass comments and I did not appreciate it. I turned my face towards him and glared. He turned away, but kept smirking.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night four-eyes." I muttered gruffly, he turned to me with an odd expression on his face. I kept my face emotionless, and turned away. We were near the bottom floor already, then it hit me.
Sectary lady could be helping Pretty Boy. It'd be easy enough, she never gave me handcuff's, only key's, like she was expecting him to overpower me. She gave him the fear toxin, giving him another chance to escape. She knew when I left, could have easily located my apartment.
Said Pretty Boy jerked to a stop next to me. He raised his eyebrow, and I bared my teeth in a snarl, turning us back to the cell. He resisted, holding his ground and smiling wide. I turned my face towards him, glaring.
"I'm blind, not weak or stupid. You're going back to you cell." I said, my anger pouring out between my clenched teeth. He smiled, like he was instructing a small child that they were wrong.
"I don't think so, Max. You see, I like my freedom, almost more than I like you. Unfortunately, if you're not going to be cooperative, we'll have to do things the hard way." He said, that creepy ass smile on his face. I grinned demonically.
"Bring it on then Pretty Boy." I challenged. Then I noticed something. Two inmates in the same cell on this floor were bound, gagged, and blind folded. Crane noticed the change in my expression, and smiled wider.
"Well, you see, I learned just who you're friends were yesterday. I have been lacking test subjects for my fear toxin, and there are vents in their rooms ready at any moment release it." Pretty Boy said the words calmly, and my eyes widened. I couldn't let this happen. Not to them, not to Kana and Boomi, my first friends.
Really my only friends.
That being said, I let go of Crane and tried to run towards them. I didn't even try to stop his hand as it darted out towards me. My first priority was my friends, Crane be damned. He grabbed my arm harshly, and I turned around swinging. He ducked, and I tried to rip my arm out of his grasp. His smile fell off, and his expression grew serious. He pulled a device out of his pocket. It was small and had one button on it.
Three guesses what it was and what it does.
So I froze, snarling, wishing Crane would die in a hole.
"I don't believe we were finished discussing the negotiations."
I was a little shocked. Was he serious? He just threatened my only friends, and was expecting me to stand here and negotiate with him? Was he that fucking stupid?
The look of surprise faded, and a vicious scowl quickly rose up on my face.
"HOW FUCKING DARE YOU, YOU LITTLE EMO BASTARD! I SWEAR TO GOD, I WILL-!" I bellowed, getting up in his face. My hands raised, and shook slightly as I restrained the tremendous urge to hit him.
He grabbed my face, and my self control went out the window as I slugged him hard in the gut. He dropped the device and doubled over with an 'omph' before I turned on my heel and ran towards Kana and Boomi's cell.
I reached it, and spared no time in throwing three hundred pounds of rock through the metal door to open it. I rushed in, and untied them both, and fear I didn't know I had faded away. They looked at me, somewhat dazed, before their expressions cleared.
"Kana, Boomi, you need to leave this city. You're both wanted, and it's too dangerous for you here. This place…it's not a city anymore, and I don't think it ever was, at least not since we've lived here. This city, it's a battlefield. Leave, go to New York or someplace like that with Lee. Find the circus his girlfriend is in, just please. Go." My voice stayed strong, but it broke on the inside.
"Max, come with us." Kana said, and Boomi shook his head. His large, handsome face looked at me knowingly, before he turned to Kana. There was a horrible pain in my chest, and I tried hard to fight it down.
"Kana, Max is doing this to protect us. We'll come back for her, she knows what she's doing." Boomi's face was weighed down by sadness. There were unspilled tears lingering in his eyes, and Kana had tears streaming down her face. They both looked at me, and tears built up in my eyes. I closed them, and we hugged each other fiercely
Tears flowed freely down our faces as we hugged each other.
I felt Crane leave.
I felt the guards try to stop him.
I felt Crane inject them with the fear toxin, then stop to watch them as they convulsed and screamed on the ground.
But none of those things mattered to me at this moment.
Because I was letting my friends; no, family; leave me behind.
All I could feel were our tears, and the beats of their hearts.
And that was the only thing that mattered.
I pulled away from them, and wiped away my tears. I punched them both in the arm then stood up as they did, wishing the hollow empty feeling in my chest would leave instead of them.
A wry smile inched it's way up my face. Hell, I'd even miss Lee. Kana and Boomi were standing side by side in front of me, and I my feet could feel the collective sadness we had. I sensed Crane stop at the door, hesitating, before he turned around and went back up the stairs.
My sadness turned to anger in a flash; like lightning striking and scorching at the earth. Then reason tempered it, turning the force of the emotion away. It was time to say goodbye. They had to leave, and they had to leave now, before Crane got up to our floor.
"You guys need to go, I'll hold him off long enough for you to get your stuff out of the apartment and leave the city." I said, my voice feeling gruff again. They nodded, and ran behind me to the other stairs at the end of the hall.
"Thank you Max," They both whispered, turning back towards me at the stairs to look at me. The tears that had just dried up came back, softly hitting the floor, playing my senses a slow sad song. They turned and left, a split second before Crane walked up the last few steps to the floor.
I had stopped crying, now I was calm. My friends were safe…for now.
Pretty Boy sure as hell wouldn't be. He has something on his face, blurring his features. I scowled. It was probably a mask of some kind. Crane smiled under it, and even though it was blurred I could see the condescending expression.
"It is very unfortunate you didn't want to negotiate, Max." He said, and gas entered the room. I determinedly held my breath, and ripped up slabs of cement, throwing them at him. One hit him in the stomach, and the other clipped his arm.
My chest started to ache, and I wanted so badly to breathe. But I couldn't, he had released the fear toxin into the air, and if I did, who knows what would have happened.
My eyes watered, I couldn't take the pressure building in my lungs any longer, I exhaled, then inhaled sharply without meaning to. I felt irrational fear course through me. I fell to the ground, and my arms felt strangely lighter.
I screwed my eyes shut as I felt the ground fall away.
I was too afraid to say anything, to move, because of the drug.
He walked towards me. It was like I was drowning in the sensation of falling, and the vibrations Crane caused threw me a line. I clung to that line, clenching my fists on the ground I couldn't feel. It was the most horrible sensation, but it was better than feeling the terror of falling. I lifted my head to glare at him. He looked almost regretful, but I didn't care. I bared my teeth savagely as anger over took my fear.
I launched myself at him, and tackled him. I paused as he fell, only feeling the vibrations his heart. They weren't enough for that moment, and my eyes shut instinctively in fear. As soon as he hit the ground, my eyes sprung open as my anger came back.
"YOU SPINLESS LITTLE BITCH, YOU COWARD! YOU FUCKING DRUGGED ME?! DO YOU EVEN HAVE ANY BALLS AT ALL? YOU PRETTY BOY FIVE YEAR OLD PRINCESS REJECT NEARD!" I roared, punching him squarely in the face. I didn't feel it connect, but I sensed the vibrations the punch made.
I pulled back my fist to do it again, but he quickly caught my wrists. I hated the feeling, it was like a rush of air preventing me from moving my arms. The only indication I had of him holding my wrists, were the vibrations. They were keeping me sane. They were keeping me angry instead of afraid.
I snarled, my eyebrows drawing together in anger. I drew back, sitting on him, before slamming my head onto his face. I broke his glasses in two, and the glass cut me above my eyebrow. I was about to draw back to head butt him again, but he flipped us, so he was sitting on me. I didn't feel the weight of his body, or the solid ground beneath me. I could only sense Pretty Boy's heart beat, echoing throughout his body down to the floor.
I struggled and thrashed around violently, and he looked regretful. That looked became mixed with pity, and it made me want to tear out his throat and crush him under very heavy rocks.
He stopped my thrashing, but I don't know how (due to sensory deprivation) and he leaned down closer to my face.
"Get the fuck off of me Pretty Boy." I growled. He smiled arrogantly, and my scowled deepened.
"I believe you were the one to tackle me." Pretty Boy said smoothly.
"YOU FUCKING DRUGGED ME, PRETTY BOY, AND I WAS TRYING TO KILL YOU! I STILL AM TRYING TO KILL YOU, YOU TU-TU WEARING BASTARD, SO GET THE HELL OFF!" I yelled, and he flinched for a millisecond, like he was hurt by my statement. Too fucking bad, get the fuck off of me, and go die in a hole.
I wanted to rip that fucking thing off his face so he could get a whiff of the fear toxin and know just what it felt like.
But I don't think it'd be the same, after all he could see. He wouldn't be living the same hell I was living right at this moment.
"You left me little choice. I would've thought you would have made the logical decision to talk it over." His words sounded very logical, but if you considered the situation…
HE MADE NO SENSE.
My expression could be described as this: 'are you a fucking idiot?'
"Yeah, right Pretty Boy, you expected me to stay and chit-chat when you threatened my friends? I don't think so. Now get the hell off me!" I said, struggling once again. I sounded stronger than I felt; I sounded like I was afraid. Thing is, I'm terrified.
Crane still looked sorry. I hated that look; I hated it a lot. It was the kind of hate that could cut through any fear, no matter how terrifying it was. Because on his face, he wore an expression of pity, and to me, that was the worst insult you could ever give me. It was worse than having someone rub salt in my wounds, and then slap me in the face.
I lifted my head, then brought it down until I couldn't move it anymore. A rock the side of a baseball tore itself away from the floor and hit Pretty Boy in the shoulder, flinging him off of me and into the wall. Damn, I missed his head.
I tried to stand up and regain my balance, and it was very hard. I couldn't fight like this, hell I could barely walk. While I was trying to walk without falling ( It's really hard to walk when you feel like you're falling through the air, and can't feel solid ground), Pretty Boy got up, holding his arm.
I grinned like the devil himself when I saw he was pissed. I swayed terribly trying to walk away from him and down the stairs. I was a little surprised I could smile, even through the fear. The drug must be wearing off.
Crane walked towards me, a murderous expression on his face. My grin widened some, and my eyes narrowed as I turned to face him.
I let him get about five feet away from me, before I swung my fist towards his face.
"FUCK OFF!" I yelled, as my hand connected with his face. Ha, ha, ha, take that you Pretty Boy sissy bitch!
Then I swayed, unable to regain my balance, and fell on my ass. Pretty Boy smirked, and wiped the blood off of his split lip. I scowled.
"What the hell do you think is so funny Pretty Boy?" I growled, trying to stand up again. It didn't work. God damn, it was hard to move around when you had no sense of up or down or even where the ground under your feet was.
"The fact that you can think rationally, and attempt to fight me is endearing." He said, all arrogance and condescension gone from his voice. And he wasn't lying.
If I wasn't so angry (and scared) I probably would've thought 'eh, that's a little weird', but the current situation being what it is, I glared at him fiercely, before chucking huge stones at him, and screaming that he was a spineless little bitch that made prostitutes look manly.
"You're so crass." He commented, dodging the large slabs of stone I threw at him, before coming face to face with me. I felt the drug wear off some, and I hazily felt the ground beneath my feat. I snarled, and pulled back my arm to punch him again.
Before I could punch his lights out, his hand darted out, and grabbed my wrist. My snarled deepened, as I snapped my leg out to kick him in the cajones. His eyes narrowed, and I grinned again, until he flung me against a wall and avoided my kick.
WHAT THE HELL?!
The prissy little bastard had me pinned up against a wall, his face in my face.
I was beyond furious as he moved closer to me, closing the distance between us.
"Why aren't you afraid of me?" Pretty Boy asked. My eyebrow's drew together in anger as I felt his warm breath on my face.
